


Surrounded by the sheep

by TiroFinale



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: AU-happy old sheep farmers, Angst, Death, I dont know what to tag, I dont really know what this is..., M/M, Romance, Sheep, but a strange romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-03
Updated: 2014-05-03
Packaged: 2018-01-21 18:06:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1559306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TiroFinale/pseuds/TiroFinale
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bilbo had lived alone in the highlands for 50 years now. What happens when a stranger breaks the peace?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Surrounded by the sheep

Bilbo had grown up with the sheep. Mind you, most of those who lived on the highlands had. They had grown up surrounded by the smell, the feel and the sound of the sheep. The had grown up with the smells of the highlands too. The sharp smell of gorse flowers blooming, the briny smell of the ocean just below, and the almost smell of the wind whipping up the hills towards you, collecting little bits of grass as it goes. 

But some had not grown up with one of the things Bilbo had, the sound the boats made as they navigated through the Scottish sounds. Bilbo would wake to a fog horn, like his very own alarm clock. He would go out onto the highlands, and be with the sheep. Sometimes he would move the sheep around the fields, but most of the time he was just there with them. 

One day he woke to a different sound, one he had only heard a handful of times in his 50 years of living on the highlands. It was the sound of a knock, and not just one knock but many in succession. Bilbo, still in his morning haze, realized that this meant there was someone there. He was not used to someone being there. It was a strange feeling, to think someone was waiting for him, on the other side of the old and worn door. He opened the door, and looked up into a stoic face, with eyes so blue Bilbo felt himself being lost within their depths. Before he could utter a single word, the huge frame of the man collapsed onto the packed dirt floor. 

So Bilbo looked after the man, bringing him back to health. But the man did not leave. Instead he helped Bilbo around the farm, doing the more simple chores that Bilbo loathed so much. Bilbo felt it would be cruel to send him out onto the unforgiving highlands, so instead of making him leave, Bilbo got used to his presence. He got used to waking up with another body in his bed, he got used to someone else moving around the house, and he got used to the chapped lips that were so often pressed against his own.

The winters on the highlands were always a time of suffering, a time to pray to the gods of your choice. It was a time to keep the sheep away from the exposed hills, keep them in the sheltered valleys. It was a time of hunger and pain. The man died that winter. So Bilbo waited for spring, when he could bury him. He did not mourn, just went back to his way of life before. Just got used to waking up to only him in his small bed, just got used to not having someone moving around his small hut, and just got used to not feeling chapped lips pressed against his own small ones. 

The spring came, bringing back the sharp smell of gorse flowers blooming, the briny smell of the ocean just below, and the almost smell of the wind whipping up the hills towards you, collecting little bits of grass as it goes. The spring came, and Bilbo buried the man, up in the hills, surrounded by the sheep.

**Author's Note:**

> I actually have no idea what this even is. But it is my first work on here (and my first work overall) so any feedback would be very welcome! Oh, and any prompts too, I have no idea where this came from and I don't think I can think of anything else to write about, so yeah, and prompts.


End file.
